From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
"By the time I am your age, I will have a great big beard with plants growing in it. Like Vi." Mateo nods wisely, stroking said imaginary beard. "You will just be a big old lion by then, Dad. Will you go grey?" he wonders, pressing his hands to his own dark curls as if wondering if that lays in his future as well.
He's (perhaps luckily) distracted by the talk of the houseboat and the painting of it, and the model of it, and Mateo slowly looks up at his father as if he has no idea what he's talking about all of a sudden. "...Well, yes," he says. "But I was going to paint una pittura of the boat. On some parchment. That won't take as long, will it?" Or will it? Suddenly the boy is seized by doubt, staring down at his hands as if wondering where he ought to start.
"We were all babies a few months ago, Dad," Mateo says wisely, though of course the boy's definition of a few is probably wildly out. "I can ask him? He just looked like... a boy. Like me."
When the heart of this star-crossed voyager beats in time with yours
"Oh will you?" Remi wonders, raising his brows. "What type of plants will you keep there, do you think? Ones that require you to shower a lot to keep them watered?" Were Remi to do as Mateo was suggesting, he'd likely pick succulents that didn't require much attention or watering. And by that he meant bathing. Smirking, though finding being called a big old lion quite endearing, the alchemist shrugs. "Some lions do go grey, but most die before reaching old age so I am really not sure. I suppose we will just have to wait and see, mm?"
Raising one of his palms and letting it rebound off of his forehead, Remi gasps with surprise. "Ah, un pittura! Pensavo volessi dipingere la nostra vera casa galleggiante per lei." The words sing from Remi's lips, made all the more musical by his laughter. "A painting of our houseboat will be lovely." He agrees. "With as many stars as you think. I trust your eye."
Exhaling such that his cheeks puffed out slightly, Remi shakes his head quite quickly in response. "No, no. That is alright. Just...just as long as his parents are okay with him coming here. He will ask them, yes?" The very last thing Remi needed was an angry Finn on his hands, and not just because some part of him would secretly like it.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Yes I will," Mateo says, as if saying it will make it so - and for a child, it really is that simple. "I read about a flower called butterfly weed. It's bright orange and it doesn't need much water, and it attracts butterflies. I'd like a beard full of butterflies." He grins. "If they were orange too, do you think I would look like a lion?" Not an old and grey one, obviously. "Mm, yes we will," he agrees, because naturally he doesn't think his father will die before he gets grey, and he very much wants to see it.
When things are finally clarified, the boy's expression lightens completely, and his laughter joins Remi's as he takes in the boat. "Oh no! E troppo grande!" he agrees. "I will make a picture and ask Pa about the skyport while you go hunting, then," he decides with a nod.
Everest coming to stay is exciting, and it isn't something he can hide, Mateo grinning from ear to ear and bobbing his head in a nod. "Yes, he said he would. I think he will like the trees!"
When the heart of this star-crossed voyager beats in time with yours
"And the butterflies will not get in your way?" Remi wonders, imagining himself in Mateo's shoes with a face full of butterflies while he was trying to sketch or design something. All that fluttering would be exceptionally annoying. But then, he was not Mateo. Perhaps the boy wouldn't mind. Or perhaps he already had a solution in mind. "Maybe more like a goat, if you only have hair on your face. You would need to let the flower grow into your hair as well so you could have a full mane." Remi chuckles.
"Questo è quello che stavo pensando!" Remi chuckles in agreement, still rolling his eyes at himself for misunderstanding. For as much of a dreamer as Mateo was, Remi shouldn't have immediately assumed he'd be suggesting something so farfetched.
"Ahh, well. So long as his parents say it is alright." The alchemist replies with a light shrug, feeling a rising ball of concern beginning to form in the pit of his stomach, though unable to quite say why. Mateo and Ever could be friends. Ever could come and play in the Woods. There shouldn't be anything foreboding about that.
And yet there was.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Oh... well, they might," Mateo says, furrowing his brow. "I could have other butterfly weed around the place, though, and I could transfer my butterflies to it when I need to get things done!" he decides, looking to his father as if to ask if that would work as a fix. He seems unsure, however, about whether or not he'd prefer to be a goat or a lion, still stroking away at his imaginary beard. Only drawn out by the musicality of the travelling tongue, Mateo lets his musings fade in lieu of the here and now.
Or the not so distant future, in the case of Ever visiting. "I will ask him what they said when I get back," he decides, before scrambling to his feet and fetching the pestle and mortar as well. "Can I go and work on the pittura now?" he asks. "I don't want to miss seeing the starwhales."
When the heart of this star-crossed voyager beats in time with yours
Perhaps a touch inappropriately, perhaps romantically, Remi could imagine his son telling a young man or woman he'd brought over that he just needed a minute: ferrying butterflies onto the walls, only then would Mateo be ready to kiss, or whatever else. The image made Remi smile, and perhaps it was no surprise given all the talk about butterflies, how suddenly fluttery his heart felt. "Only one way to find out."
Watching Mateo rise, the alchemist sighs as if he were the child and Mateo the grownup. Nodding reluctantly, Remi stands and dusts off his knees. "That is a good idea. I will walk you back and then go out to hunt, how does that sound?" Assuming his son wouldn't mind the company, the pair lazily make their way back toward the houseboat, discussing the different flora they see as they go.
~FIN <3
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
